She Will Live
by KittyKnight
Summary: What if Maxon never jumped in front of America as the rebel aimed his gun at her? What if she was the one who was shot? Told through Maxon's eyes and taking place at the end of The One, America takes the bullet rather than Maxon, leaving her life on the line.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! So, this is my first time writing a fanfiction, so feedback would be MUCH appreciated! I hope you all enjoy!**

**And a heads up! This story is written in Maxon's POV.**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any characters or settings used in this story; they all belong to the lovely Kiera Cass.**

I sit in the center of the ornate table with Kriss Ambers to my left, and the love of my life to my right. It's ironic, isn't it? People should be honored to sit on the right side. It should be a good thing. But America… America doesn't deserve an honored position with me at the moment. She's probably lost in thought about getting out of the palace so she can live the rest of her life with the real "prince" of her choosing. After all, she did call it a cage when she'd first arrived. I bet she still looks at it the same way.

I turn my head, just to sneak a glance at her. As much as I hate to admit it, I do love her, and who knows how much longer she'll be in my presence. But, much to my anticipation, she is looking at Officer Leger. She looks lost in thought; she always does. That's my America. My darling. My princess. My dear. She never did allow me to call her that last one. Now I know why.

"Trying to arrange a time to meet later?" I say through gritted teeth.

Her head whips around, and her eyes meet mine. I feel myself soften just for a moment, but then hide myself away again. "No, of course not."

"It's not like it matters," I tell her. It pains me to say this to her. I can see the sorrow in her sky blue eyes. "Kriss's family will be here this afternoon for a small celebration, and yours will be here to take you home. They don't like for the last loser to be alone. She tends to get dramatic."

I try not to let myself falter—this sense of detachment from her could be so easily lost.

Then, I remember the house I had given to her the night before. Her family was supposed to live there so they could be nearby. And those letters. I'd made myself so vulnerable in those letters. Every emotion, every thought, every feeling. I'd put them all into those letters. My throat catches, and I let out a breath. I offer her the coldest stare I could muster up.

"You can keep that house if you want. It's been paid for. I'd like my letters back though."

She looked as though she were holding back tears. "I read them," she whispered. Maybe she couldn't find her voice. "I loved them."

I huff. What a joke. She's lied to me before, why would she stop now? "Don't know what I was thinking."

Then she begins to lose it. "Please don't do this. Please. I love you." Her face crumples. I grit my teeth. "Don't. You. Dare." I stare blankly at her. "You put on a smile, and you wear it to the last second."

She blinks, clearing any sign of tears, and smiles weakly at me.

I feel my insides soften, turn to mush. It kills me to see her hurting like this. My face remains a stone. "That'll do. Don't let that slip until you leave the room, do you understand?"

She nods.

I look her in the eye again, all traces of sympathy washed away. "I'll be glad when you're gone."

I turn back to Kriss and offer her a smile. "So, tell me, what's your dream wedding like?" I catch glimpses of red out of the corner of my eye, but dismiss it as nothing.

That's when I hear the gunshot.

And the screaming begins.

"Get on the floor." I order Kriss, pushing her down under the table. "We're going to be fine."

She nods pathetically tears already gushing down her face. I glance over at America, just to check. When I look up, I see the barrel of a gun pointing at my face. My eyes widen, my heart begins to beat erratically inside my chest. I look down at America, who is already looking up at me.

For an instant, I lose myself in those beautiful blue eyes. I see them watching me, staring at me intently, as she saunters down the aisle. She looks beautiful in her long, white dress a smile displayed perfect across her face.

Another gunshot.

It draws me back into reality, and I see her.

Her body laying on the floor, and a red stain spreading out across the chest her magnificent dress.

"America!" I scream.

My eyes pool with tears. I quickly rip off my coat and dab it at the bullet wound, causing her the wince.

"America," I say again, this time in a whisper.

Her eyes never leave mine.

"America, I'm so sorry." I say, still helplessly trying to stop the bleeding.

"Go, Maxon." She tells me, which stings. "Save yourself."

"No, no, I can't—" I take in a sharp breath, trying to calm myself. "—just leave you here." I look over my shoulder and call, "Somebody, anybody, please help!"

"Maxon…" Her voice is hoarse. She places her hand gently on top of mine.

"I love you, America, I hope you know that." Tears slide down my cheeks and drip onto her arm. "Break my heart. Break it a thousand times if you like. It was only ever yours to break anyway." I let out a sob, my body shaking. "Every beat of my heart it yours." I turn over my shoulder and call out, "Somebody help, now!"

"Max..on." America says quietly. I turn back to face her.

"Yes?"

"I...love you."

My stomach tightens and my heart skips a beat. "I—"

"Your Majesty, you're going to need to move."

I look over to see a medic standing behind me, guarded from the rebels by Officer Leger. I nod, and glance down at America one more time. I stand and grab the medic forcefully by his collar. "I don't care what it takes, you make sure she lives."

He nods in understanding, picks up her limp, bleeding body, and takes her away.


	2. Chapter 2

**GUYS! Omg, guuuys, you have **_**no**_** idea how happy all your reviews made me xD. You all made my day, really. I'm smiling like an idiot right now. And I'm SO glad you all like the concept and the POV change...I hope you all continue to enjoy!:) I'll be sure to continue to update as soon as I can, alright?:)**

**DISCLAIMER: Everything still belongs to Kiera Cass.**

I sit alone in the Safe Room, my knees against my chest and my head in my hands. I shouldn't be here. I should be with her. With America. She needs me now. What if that was the last time I got to see her? What if that was the last time I got to look into her vibrant eyes, shining with love and anticipation?

My body trembles with another sob as the realization hit me. She was shot on the left side of her chest, just under her shoulder. She may be long dead by now, and I'd never know because I'm trapped in this God forsaken jail cell. I jump up and pound against the metal door.

"Open up!" I yell at it. I feel so helpless; I know I can't do anything about this. "Open up, you useless piece of scrap metal!" I let out a scream of frustration. This is pointless.

All I can hear is the hopeless sound of my fists against metal, and my body-wracking sobs. I cry for her. For America. For the life we wanted together. For the life we dreamed of, because I know she dreamed of it as well. For the life I'd almost ripped away from us, only hours ago. For the life we'll never get to have.

The sobs aren't all out of pain, necessarily. While much of it is, I'm also angry with myself. Angry that I'd nearly ruined both our lives. And why didn't I save her? Why didn't I jump in front of her and take the bullet? Or, at the very least, pushed her out of the way?

But she'd also betrayed me. She had an affair with him. With Aspen Leger.

That doesn't change the fact that she's dead now, or the fact that I love her. I love her dead or alive. I love her with or without Aspen Leger. I love her as a One or as a Five. I love her. It's as simple as that.

I'll never know if the feeling truly is mutual or not. She claimed for it to be, but I can't be so certain. She had never gotten the chance to prove herself because I'd never given it to her.

Now I could feel it. I could feel the gaping hole ripping apart my chest. All the guilt. All the sorrow. All the sadness and self-pity. Everything hits at once, almost knocking the wind out of me. I feel my stomach knot as I fall in on myself. No amounts of stitches or medical attention could heal this wound.

Never before had I felt so alone. Typically, I'm swamped in work. Papers usually litter my desk as a way to keep myself occupied. Now, it is just me alone in this Safe Room for who knows how long.

Seconds turn to minutes. Minutes turn to hours. Hours turn to what feels like days. With every tick of the clock, every beat of my heart, a new waves of pain courses throughout my body.

_She's dead. She's dead._

I sit again with my back to the wall and wait. That's all I can do.

After what feels like decades, the door finally opens, and a guard whom I have yet to learn the name of faces me.

"Your Majesty, it's safe to return now."

I nearly sprint out of the room. I turn back towards him. "Where is she?"

"Pardon?"

"Lady America!"

I don't even wait for an answer, I just call out "America" over and over again.

The guard grabs my arm and gives me a somber look. "Your Majesty, I know you are concerned about Lady America, but there's something else you must know…" His voice seems to trail off.

I don't say anything, waiting for him to continue.

"Your parents, Your Majesty...they...didn't survive the attack."

I don't realize what he'd just said at first. However, once it hit me, I feel my world fall through my fingers like sand. My parents are gone? They're dead? That can't be true, it has to be a mistake. They were here only a few hours ago. Mom was in the Women's Room with all the other Selected and Father was in his study. They can't just be gone. "N-no…" I croke. "Th-that can't be right, I-I…" Tears streak my face yet again. "I saw them only a few hours ago."

I feel like a child. Never before had I put myself in such a vulnerable position in front of another person. I feel my knees go weak. I'd never had a good relationship with my father, but I love him nonetheless. But, my mother… She was everything. As a child, I remember she used to sing me to sleep because I never could on my own. She never knew why. That didn't matter now. She's dead.

America. Mom. Father. Who else?

I take a deep, shaky breath and trick myself into feeling calm. "Sir, take me to Lady America. That's an order."

**Again, guys, thank you SO much for all the reviews, and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as well. I'm sorry they're so short right now; I promise the next chapter will be longer. And, please, leave a review and tell me what you think!:)**


End file.
